


who's counting?

by fliick



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pining, but he doesnt really know its pining until like halfway through, for the most part anyway, fun fact i got so emotional while writing this that i almost for real cried, its just really soft and fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23915791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fliick/pseuds/fliick
Summary: Their fiftieth kiss, their hundredth kiss, their millionth kiss, Hajime wasn’t sure anymore.Who was counting, anyway?
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 23
Kudos: 172





	who's counting?

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fic idea i had months ago but never got around to writing it until now  
> im going back to my basics and just writing pure, tooth-rotting fluff
> 
> even though this fic is longer than my recent ficlets, it still feels too short but alas,
> 
> EDIT: im aware of the portuguese not being that spoken language in argentina!  
> i've answered questions about it, but i figured it warranted explanation: i didn't do enough research and wrongly assumed portuguese was the language in the whole of brazil; that's my bad and i apologize for any confusion or immersion breaks for it!

The first time was an accident.  
They were both 9, and they were catching bugs together, per Hajime’s request.

Hajime knew Oikawa didn’t like bugs, so he tried to do most of the catching himself so he could just show the bugs to Oikawa.  
Though, Oikawa would still squeal when Hajime showed him cicadas or beetles.  
Hajime would hold his hand out with a beetle in his palm to show Oikawa, and Oikawa would cling to Hajime for dear life.

Hajime never did understand Oikawa’s fear of bugs, but he always just figured Oikawa would grow to like bugs eventually. (Years later, Oikawa still hated bugs.)

That day, Hajime had been catching bugs left and right to show Oikawa. All the while, Oikawa was whining about how gross the bugs were despite still following Hajime around and letting the former show him bugs.

Hajime had found a ladybug crawling on a moss-covered rock close to the shrine they’d hunt for bugs around and had cupped it in his hands, careful not to crush it.  
He’d returned to Oikawa, who was sitting on the steps of the shrine, patiently waiting for Hajime to show him new bugs to squeal at.

But this time, Hajime told Oikawa to close his eyes and hold out his hand.  
Oikawa fervently refused, convinced that Hajime would stick a huge spider on his hand, and Hajime spent a good ten minutes persuading Oikawa that it was a small bug and it wouldn’t hurt him if he just stayed still.

Oikawa had huffed a _Let’s get this over with_ before sticking his hand out and closing his eyes.  
Hajime flipped Oikawa’s hand over just in case Oikawa accidentally crushed the bug in his palm, and delicately placed the ladybug on Oikawa’s knuckles before telling Oikawa to open his eyes.

Oikawa did so, and promptly examined the bug on his hand before his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and he flailed about, waving his hands wildly.  
Exasperated, Hajime urged Oikawa to calm down and he’d take the bug off, but Oikawa wailed, overshadowing Hajime’s calm voice.

Hajime’s sure Oikawa had tripped over his own damn feet from all his dumb flailing over nothing, but either way, Oikawa had landed on top of Hajime before either of them could stop him.

It only took them moments to realize how their heads had crashed together painfully, and their lips had bumped each other’s brusquely.  
Only about three second had passed, but they flew apart, wiping their mouths furiously.

“Eww!” Oikawa had whined obnoxiously, “I can’t believe you did that, Hajime-chan!”

Hajime incredulously pointed his finger at Oikawa, arguing, “ _You’re_ the one who was swinging around like a maniac! I _told_ you it wouldn’t hurt you!”

Oikawa’s eyes had welled up with tears, and Hajime instantly drew back, worried he’d been too harsh on his friend, but Oikawa sniffled and said, “You took my first kiss, Hajime-chan… Now no girl will ever want to date me…”

Hajime crossed his arms and scoffed, “No girl would want to date you anyway, Tooru.”  
He still glanced over Oikawa despite his words, checking to see if Oikawa had actually hurt himself in the fall.

He caught smeared blood on Oikawa’s knee and quickly moved to pull Oikawa so that he was no longer sitting on his knees.  
Upon seeing his scraped knee, Oikawa’s tears spilled over his cheeks and he began sobbing.

Hajime had panicked slightly, worried that Oikawa _had_ actually broken a bone.  
He kneeled down in front of Oikawa, trying desperately to recall the steps his mother told him to follow if either of them ever got seriously injured in the forest and there was no one around to help.

“Tooru, can you move your leg?” he asked as calmly as he could, lightly tapping Oikawa’s leg in emphasis.

Oikawa shifted his leg slightly, and Hajime breathed a sigh of relief, regaining himself quickly.  
“It hurts…” Oikawa sniffed, “Am I going to die?”

Hajime scoffed. “It’s not broken. You wouldn’t die, even if it was broken, dummy. You just scraped it really bad.”

Oikawa’s weeping had slowed and he wiped his face of tears and snot despite tears still falling out of his eyes.  
Hajime sighed and offered his shirt, which Oikawa promptly buried his face in. When he lifted his head, Hajime’s shirt was wet.

“Gross,” Hajime muttered.

“That’s m-mean, H-Hajime-chan,” Oikawa hiccuped, wiping the last of his snot from his nose.

Hajime knelt down, back facing Oikawa as he said, “C’mon, I’ll carry you back home. My mom can patch up your knee.”  
Oikawa slid onto Hajime’s back, and as Hajime lifted him up, he added, “Oh, and you’re washing my shirt. It’s _your_ snot all over it.”

Oikawa sniffed again, but pouted childishly like he always did, “You already took my first kiss! What more do you want?!”

They’d laughed about it later, but Hajime’s mother chewed them out about it. Hajime got especially scolded for dragging Oikawa along to catch bugs in the forest instead of playing in the neighborhood.

They were both gloomy after being told off, so they went to get ice cream together.  
As always Oikawa, got strawberry flavored, and Hajime got chocolate. They shared it, even though Hajime had resisted a little.  
Hajime thought that the ice cream tasted especially good that summer.

The second time was an impulse.  
They were 12, and Oikawa had been sleeping over at Hajime’s for the latter’s birthday the next day.

The two were determined to stay up all night despite both getting sleepy around 10pm.  
Oikawa said he wanted to be the first one to tell Hajime happy birthday, and Hajime just wanted to see how long he could stay awake.

They’d spent a better half of the night watching movies together, and Hajime had almost fallen asleep multiple times at Oikawa’s alien shows that he’d requested to watch.  
Hajime had suggested a couple monster movies, but Oikawa whined about how scary they were, complaining that he wouldn’t be able to sleep as Hajime retorted that that was the point.

By the time 11pm rolled around, Oikawa was yawning and lying on the floor of Hajime’s bedroom, dozing off.

Hajime poked him and Oikawa blinked awake, looking offended.

“You said you wanted to stay awake,” Hajime scoffed as Oikawa sat up, back against Hajime’s bed.  
Hajime moved to sit next to him, looking around his room. “We can play a game or something, if you want.”

Oikawa shook his head. “Don’t wanna.”

They had laid out a futon for Oikawa, though Hajime guessed Oikawa would crawl into Hajime’s bed in the middle of the night at some point.  
Oikawa never liked sleeping in his own bed whenever he was over at Hajime’s, always arguing that it was warmer to sleep with someone else.  
Oikawa laid the blanket of the futon over his lap, wrapping it around his legs.

“Well, what should we do? There’s still an hour left,” Hajime yawned, wiping tears out of his eyes.

“Mmmm,” Oikawa hummed, head falling onto Hajime’s shoulder, already dozing off.

“Oikawa, c’mon,” Hajime urged, shrugging his shoulder to bounce Oikawa’s head and shake him awake. “Let’s watch funny videos or something.”  
He crawled over to his desk, glancing back for Oikawa to follow him.

Oikawa sleepily shuffled over, bringing the futon blanket with him, and immediately resting his head on Hajime’s shoulder again, but slightly more awake after moving.

Hajime must have found a particularly funny video or one of them might have said something to trigger the giggles, but within minutes, the two were rolling on the floor, desperately trying to keep their snickers down as to not alarm Hajime’s mother.

Maybe it was late enough that anything seemed hilarious, but they couldn’t stop laughing, even when they were gasping to catch their breath.

Hajime whispered through his laughing, “Shhh! My mom’s gonna hear us, Oikawa!”

Oikawa, fully awake, rolled over on the floor, holding his stomach.  
“I can’t! You’re laughing too, Hajime-chan!”

They’d rolled around in the dark bedroom for who-knows-how-long before they rolled next to each other on the futon, laughter slowly dying down, but still getting hiccups of giggles.  
Both were exhausted from the laughing fits, and when Oikawa flipped the futon blanket over to cover both him and Hajime, small leftover chuckles erupted from Hajime.

They were lying close together, the blanket temporarily blinding their vision with darkness for a moment, only feeling each other’s breaths under the limited space.

Once their eyes adjusted, Hajime caught the look on Oikawa’s face - still red from laughing, bright almond eyes, messy tousled hair, the shirt he’d borrowed from Hajime depicting Godzilla on it.

A thought passed Hajime’s mind, brief and quiet, and before he knew what he was doing, he was over Oikawa, lips pressed delicately to his.

The laughter had stopped immediately, and Oikawa’s eyes were blown wide open - Hajime could tell, even in the dark of the futon blanket, because his own eyes were, too - and neither dared move an inch.

Unsure of how much time had passed, Hajime rolled off and landed next to Oikawa, who pulled the futon blanket down so they could stare at the dark, distant ceiling.  
Hajime’s heart was pounding out of his chest, not sure where to go from there.  
He’d just kissed his best friend out of impulse, because a simple thought passed in the back of his mind.

A thought that Hajime had no business thinking about his best friend. A thought that had come out of nowhere, one that he’d _never_ thought he’d be thinking.

He waited for something from Oikawa; a gripe in the form of “You stole another one of my kisses!”, a question like “Why did you kiss me?”, even just more laughter.  
But he got nothing for so long that he almost dozed off right then and there, convinced he’d imagined the whole thing.

After what felt like hours of waiting, a quiet voice whispered up to the ceiling.  
“Happy birthday, Hajime-chan.”

( _Oikawa had looked so beautiful. Hajime wondered what it would feel like to kiss him again, on purpose_.)

The third time was for comfort.  
At 15, Oikawa had grown into his puberty pretty quickly.

He was handsome, and the girls in their class knew it. All through junior high, Oikawa had girls fawning over him.  
It began at the beginning of their first year of junior high, their classmates were discussing crushes and girlfriends and boyfriends.

And by their third year of junior high, Oikawa had found a girlfriend and had dated a girl for the first time for about half a year.  
It wasn’t really surprising, especially with Oikawa’s newfound popularity.

Frankly, Hajime had been more surprised that they stayed together for so long.  
Oikawa just poured himself into volleyball more and more in junior high, and right before his incident with Kageyama, he’d been distant, even to Hajime.

In the back of Hajime’s mind, he might have had some kind of feeling about Oikawa having a girlfriend for so long, but he left it untouched.  
He just assumed it was a feeling of mild jealousy that Oikawa was the one to get a girlfriend first.

After all, the rest of the third years of Kitagawa Daiichi also expressed frustration at Oikawa getting a girlfriend first, too.

It was annoying, but for an entirely different reason, Hajime had found, because he and Oikawa still hung out like normal despite Oikawa’s girlfriend.

Some days, they wouldn’t talk about her at all as they sat across from each other in Hajime’s bedroom, homework sprawled on the table.  
Some days, it was all Oikawa _could_ talk about, and Hajime had to sit there, biting his pencil eraser, as Oikawa went on and _on_ about what he and his girlfriend were up to, or where they were going next on their date, and rarely, about small complaints with her.

The complaints weren’t anything Hajime thought was out of the ordinary.  
She had apparently told Oikawa that the latter spent too much time on volleyball, or that she was jealous about the amount of girls still fawning over Oikawa.

Hajime thought the complaints were unjustified, really. They were things that, quite honestly, Oikawa couldn’t really help, no matter how irritating.  
If she had complained about Oikawa’s smug personality, Hajime probably would have agreed, but Oikawa never told him if she did.

So when Oikawa let himself into Hajime’s bedroom unannounced one day and flopped onto the bed, tears in the corners of his eyes, Hajime was only a little surprised to find out he and his girlfriend had broken up.

“She said she was done with me and my volleyball,” Oikawa huffed, burying his wet face in Hajime’s pillow.

Hajime plopped down on the bed next to him and nudged his cheek with his knuckles.  
“Gross, you’re getting my pillow wet.”

Oikawa tilted his face and looked up at Hajime through teary eyes.  
“That’s mean, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime was struck with the memory of when they were kids, and Oikawa had tripped, scraping his knee.  
They’d said something along those exact lines.  
It made Hajime a little nostalgic, though he supposed he might have just gotten caught up in Oikawa’s moping.

“If she doesn’t accept you playing volleyball, she probably wasn’t the one for you, idiot,” Hajime rolled his eyes, shoving Oikawa to the side of the bed so he could pull his legs up and lay next to him.

Oikawa rolled over on his side without much complaint as Hajime laid face-up.  
“I really thought I could have made it last,” Oikawa mumbled, wiping his face of tears.

“You, crying over a girl. That’s a first,” Hajime said, eyes watching the ceiling of his room.  
He’d watched it with Oikawa, too, on Hajime’s 13th birthday.  
Since then, they’d stopped making Oikawa a futon if he was sleeping over, it was useless anyway. Hajime wondered if they were too old to sleep in the same bed as friends by now.  
“Maybe it’ll snow, too.”

“You’re not even gonna comfort me?” Oikawa pouted. “You’re such a bad friend, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime rolled his eyes and roughly pulled Oikawa to his chest in a hug that was more headlock than hug.  
“This good enough?”

Oikawa struggled under Hajime’s grip, playfully flailing around.  
“Ow, ow, ow! Cut it out! This is not comforting at all!” he protested, though Hajime could hear the laughter he was holding back.

Hajime ruffled Oikawa’s hair, digging his knuckles into Oikawa’s already-unkempt hair.

“Ow, Iwa-chan! That’s mean!” Oikawa groaned, but giggles bubbled up and he tore himself away from Hajime’s grasp.  
“I’m _trying_ to grieve my breakup!”

“What are you grieving? You just miss all the attention she gave you,” Hajime pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Oikawa crossed his arms, huffing, “So what! She gave me way more affection than you, Iwa-chan! I’m nice to you all the time and you’re only mean to me!”

“What are you talking about? I’m nice to you all the time,” Hajime jabbed at Oikawa’s ribs, which Oikawa only narrowly dodged.

“See! You’re being mean!” Oikawa protested, kicking at Hajime’s gut.

Hajime went to give Oikawa a light punch in the shoulder, but Oikawa kicked him back before he could.  
“What do you want me to do? This is just my way of showing affection.”

“It’s a lousy way of showing affection!” Oikawa whined, acting particularly hurt when Hajime landed a soft punch to Oikawa’s chest.  
He fell over dramatically, arm over his forehead.

Hajime leaned over him, unimpressed.  
“Then what do you want me to do?”

A look flashed across Oikawa’s face, something between a smirk and… something else that Hajime didn’t have enough time to discern.

“Kiss me.”

Hajime froze where he was, silence filling the space between them.  
Though he knew he heard Oikawa right, he told himself that Oikawa was probably just joking around like he always did.

They hadn’t talked about how they kissed on Hajime’s 13th birthday, ever.  
He wasn’t even sure if Oikawa even remembered it.

Oikawa must have caught the look on Hajime’s face because he snorted, lifting up from where he’d flopped over.  
“Kidding. It was nice, though. Kissing her.”  
He’d smiled fondly, like he was recalling the feeling of doing just that.  
“You were right, I do miss the affection. I’ve never-” he said, but trailed off, like he was cutting himself off.

Hajime waited for him to correct himself or to finish his sentence, but instead he suddenly seemed gloomy and sad.  
He sat cross-legged on Hajime’s bed, frowning and looking to be on the verge of tears again.

He looked so small suddenly, despite the fact that he’d begun to grow past Hajime.  
Oikawa had bit his lip, fidgeting his fingers quietly with a pained look on his face.

For all his joking around, Oikawa really was a good person.  
He’d had some bumps in the road, but he was genuinely someone that Hajime cared about, whether he’d admit that or not.  
Seeing his best friend cry like that might have stirred something in Hajime.

He leaned forward, sliding his hand over Oikawa’s eyes, and tilting his head back a little.

“Just pretend I’m a girl,” Hajime had whispered before planting a kiss on Oikawa’s lips.

He wasn’t sure how long the kiss had lasted, just that Oikawa sat stock still against him.  
He couldn’t see Oikawa’s eyes behind his hand, but he still closed his own.

When Hajime pulled back, his own face was burning up, and he refused to meet Oikawa’s eyes.  
It was deafeningly quiet, and after a moment of discomfort, Hajime stole a peek at Oikawa’s face.

The past two times they’d kissed must have desensitized Hajime, because he wasn’t expecting Oikawa’s completely red face, eyes staring down at his fidgeting fingers.  
“Uh, Iwa-chan, are you-”

Hajime didn’t let Oikawa finish that sentence.  
He practically flung himself off the bed, loudly announcing that he needed to shower, and retreated from the room as quickly as he could.

He told himself a million times as he paced the bathroom that he only kissed Oikawa because Oikawa was on the verge of crying and it was just to comfort him, but the softness of Oikawa’s lips were circulating around those thoughts.

He took a long, long cold shower, and by the time he was out, Oikawa had passed out in the middle of his bed.

Hajime slept on the floor without a futon.

The fourth time was to prove a point.  
They were 18, third years in high school, coming back from their defeat at the spring interhigh.

It was a tough defeat to take, and though the third years expended their energy with the extra practice they did together, Hajime still felt restless.

Hajime followed Oikawa home that night.  
It wasn’t previously planned, but Oikawa didn’t complain when Hajime took the turn toward his house with him instead of taking the sidewalk down to his own house.

Oikawa’s mother didn’t say anything to them when they walked in - she must have seen the looks on their faces and known better.  
Hajime still nodded at her in greeting before following Oikawa down the hall.

“Godammit,” Oikawa murmured under his breath as he slid the door of his room open.  
He flicked the light on and hurled his duffle bag into a corner of his room, storming over to his bed and flopping down with a _thud_.

Hajime watched him, sighing. He placed his own duffle bag next to Oikawa’s before sitting on the edge of the bed.

A few minutes of silence before Oikawa mumbled, voice muffled from his face in the pillow, “Get the futon out if you want. You know where it is.”

It was shockingly cold, and it immediately felt worse than anything that had happened that day to Hajime.  
Oikawa, the professional cuddler, telling Hajime to sleep on the floor? The one who always snuck into Hajime’s bed, even when he _did_ pull out the futon?

Hajime frowned, stomach flipping uncomfortably.  
He was a little hurt by Oikawa’s words, but it wouldn’t be the first time. The guy just had a tendency to unintentionally lash out when he became like that.

So instead, Hajime lifted off the bed, flipping the lightswitch off that Oikawa had just turned on.  
He returned to the bed and laid down, resting his head against Oikawa’s shoulder. He briefly wondered if spooning Oikawa would be comforting or weird to the latter.

“We’re definitely too old to be doing this now,” Hajime scoffed quietly, hands finding Oikawa’s spine and tracing the ridges.  
Even at 18, they just couldn’t seem to break free of their physical pull toward each other, it seemed.

Oikawa’s voice came quiet and choked, “ _You’re_ the one doing it. Let go.”

“I’ll let go once you stop moping.”

“I’m _upset_ ,” Oikawa snapped, craning his neck to look over his shoulder at Hajime. “I don’t want your pity.”

Hajime caught the look in Oikawa’s eyes: drained, but still wanting.  
What a liar.

Hajime wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s midsection, much to Oikawa’s complaining.  
Hajime might have thought it was embarrassing when he was younger, to cuddle with Oikawa. But over time, he kind of began to understand the comfort and safe feeling of having another body hold him.

Or maybe he was making excuses.  
He was still struggling with his feelings.

“Godammit,” Oikawa muttered again, strained tone. “Why did you come over, anyway?”

“You didn’t stop me.”

Oikawa made a noise that Hajime figured was supposed to be a scoff, but his tight throat distorted the sound slightly.  
“Just leave, Iwa-chan. I wanna be alone.”

Hajime tightened his grip on Oikawa’s body. “No you don’t.”

“Stop it, I don’t want to hug,” Oikawa insisted, wriggling his body so that Hajime’s grasp loosened. “I don’t want to be around you.”

That definitely sent a jab to Hajime’s gut that had him completely letting go of Oikawa.  
He kept telling himself it was just Oikawa lashing out, but he was starting to get a little annoyed himself.

He sat up at the edge of the bed, a crushing feeling in his chest.  
“Well, I do. You’re not the only one upset, Shittykawa.”

There was a pause of silence that Hajime worried that Oikawa had fully ignored him.

“Sorry,” Oikawa said, barely above a whisper.  
A plain and simple apology for lashing out. Hajime wouldn’t have wanted any more, anyway.  
He never liked it when Oikawa spent too long on apologies.  
“Do you want me to do something for you?”

Hajime’s mind might have swam around a bit at that question.  
It was meant to be a comforting question, but Hajime might have wondered about a handful of things that he’d be ashamed to admit he’d thought.

He made sure not to let his pause go for too long.  
“Even if I asked, you probably wouldn’t do anything,” Hajime joked, glancing over his shoulder at Oikawa’s face, eyes red and raw from crying.

Oikawa pulled himself upright, pouting.  
“I would! Unless you asked me to, like, kill someone for you.”

Hajime let a breath of a laugh escape him. “Even if it was Ushiwaka?”

Oikawa feigned consideration for a moment.  
“Okay, maybe I’d kill someone for you,” he snorted softly.

“I’ll keep that bookmarked.”

They chuckled quietly together, and Oikawa leaned over and rested his head on Hajime’s shoulder comfortably.  
They stayed like that for a while, and Hajime wondered for a moment if Oikawa had dozed off already.

“I’m sorry I don’t do more for you,” Oikawa murmured after a moment. “I know you do a lot for me.”

Oikawa speaking so earnestly felt strange and surprising, and Hajime found his own face a little warm.  
He’d known in the back of his head that Oikawa had always acknowledged his efforts to take care of him, but it felt different hearing it out loud.

Hajime kept up his teasing though, chuckling, “I don’t want anything in particular from you, anyway.” A lie, but he wouldn’t admit that.  
“You seem like you want something, though.”

Oikawa went quiet, and Hajime got the feeling they were thinking the same thing.  
It was an unspoken agreement that they never talked about the previous times, but Hajime wondered if it was a special case now.  
It felt like they were so, _so_ close to talking about it, but neither were willing to take the final step forward.

“...I’ll do it,” Hajime whispered, so quietly that he wondered if Oikawa had even heard him.

Oikawa feigned ignorance, though. “I haven’t even asked anything. I hope you’re not thinking anything dirty, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime scoffed mildly, fidgeting his fingers slightly, but nothing more.

Oikawa lifted his head off Hajime’s shoulder, sliding to the edge of the bed and catching Hajime’s eyes in the dark.  
“Do you mean that?”

It was Hajime’s turn to feign ignorance.  
“Mean what?”

Oikawa’s face scrunched up into a pout that made Hajime want to laugh.  
He protested, “You _know_ what I mean.”

“Then say it.”

They danced around it so easily, Hajime began to wonder if they actually _were_ on the same page. But he couldn’t imagine that they’d be talking about anything else.

“You’re so mean, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mumbled. “You probably wouldn’t have done it, anyway.”

Hajime snuck a glance and his heart leaped at the red in Oikawa’s face, visible even in the dark room.  
“I would. I will,” he corrected himself.

“ _Prove it_.”

Well, Hajime had never been one to back down from a challenge, anyway.

He slid his hand up to cup Oikawa’s cheek, bringing their faces close together.  
He paused, just to watch Oikawa’s eyes stare right back at him in an expression that he couldn’t quite place. Something between eagerness, shock, and full acceptance.

That was all the confirmation he needed. He leaned forward and pressed their lips together, thumb running under Oikawa’s eye.

For the first time, he felt Oikawa’s lips move against his, slot perfectly together, more perfect than any other time they’d kissed.  
He was so caught up in the feeling of _actually_ kissing Oikawa that he hardly registered Oikawa’s hands on his jaw and neck, encouraging the kiss.

It felt different, incredible, to kiss Oikawa with purpose and intent. No accidents, no excuses.  
They kissed because they _wanted_ to.

Hajime’s face felt hot, and he was sure Oikawa’s was too.  
When they broke apart, Oikawa’s pale face was deep red, and he could feel Oikawa’s hands tremble.

“Iwa-chan, I-”

“Shut it,” Hajime interrupted quickly, pressing the palm of his hand squarely in the center of Oikawa’s face. “Don’t say it. Not yet.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Oikawa protested, but through his fingers, Hajime could see tears squeezing in the corners of his eyes.  
In embarrassment or relief, Hajime couldn’t tell - because he also felt like he was on the verge of tears for the same reasons.

He had a feeling that Oikawa would try to say it, but he wasn’t ready for it.  
Not now, anyway.  
“Save it for some other time.”

Oikawa huffed in exasperation, but relented, lying back down on the bed, pulling Hajime down with him.  
Wordlessly, Hajime pulled Oikawa’s body to his chest, burying his face into the back of Oikawa’s neck. Oikawa relaxed into him contentedly, resting a hand over Hajime’s.

Hajime savored that kiss, replaying the feeling over and over in his head in hopes to dream about it, too.  
Even if he and Oikawa went back to normal the next day, Hajime took in everything about it.

For the first time, Hajime looked forward to the next time.

The fifth time was a reunion.  
Hajime went to college in Tokyo, and Oikawa flew off to Brazil to study volleyball.

They’d thrown a huge going-away party for Oikawa when he left, cake and everything. Matsukawa and Hanamaki had even thrown the cake in Oikawa’s face after taking a nice picture of the whole team together with it.  
They’d laughed and reminisced about the past couple of years, and the second and first years had sobbed, promising that they’d take good care of the club before Oikawa and Hajime left for the airport.

Oikawa had left Hajime with a tight hug and a promise that they’d keep in contact.  
Not that Hajime had even been concerned about it in the first place. Even if Oikawa hadn’t promised, Hajime would have called him until he answered anyway.

Oikawa had sent him postcards with beautiful photos of places in Brazil that Oikawa probably hadn’t even been to since he was studying in Argentina, but Hajime still appreciated the sentiment, and kept every postcard that was sent.  
The postcards were mostly a fun souvenir though, since Oikawa called Hajime practically every chance he could, despite the time difference, and Hajime would pick up every time.

Hajime was there in the quiet nights that he and Oikawa would share over the phone, comfortable silence as they worked on homework together, the sounds of scribbling pencils filling the space.  
Hajime was there in the days Oikawa chatted for hours about his teammates and his daily life, teaching Hajime Portugese words that he’d probably never use.

He was there in the nights that Oikawa talked through choked sobs and slurred mumbles, telling Hajime over and over how homesick he was and how lost he felt despite how hard he was working.  
Even if their friendship had remained and nothing past that had actually happened in the months between their last kiss and Oikawa leaving, Hajime wasn’t past admitting that he missed Oikawa, too.

It was hard to adjust his schedule to Oikawa’s 12 hour difference in time zones, and he’d spent more nights up at ungodly hours, downing coffee just to talk to Oikawa than he’d like to admit.  
Even with their frequent - almost daily - calls, Hajime found himself openly missing how clingy Oikawa was.

Maybe Oikawa had just rubbed off on him after the past few years.

It was a particularly quiet night that Oikawa called Hajime around 5 AM, middle of the afternoon for Oikawa.  
Hajime had awoken to his phone ringing, and he’d answered it already knowing who it was, dazed and groggy.

“Hey,” he greeted in his raw, sleepy voice.

There was a pause on Oikawa’s end, and Hajime second-guessed for a moment that it _was_ Oikawa.  
Just as he thought to check the caller id, Oikawa whispered, “What time is there for you, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime tilted his head to look at the clock sitting on his nightstand.  
“About 5:15 AM.”

“Sorry for waking you.”  
Oikawa’s voice sounded quiet and small, like he was trying to be quiet even though it was daylight for him.

Hajime sat up in bed, running a hand through his short hair.  
“Everything okay?” he asked softly.

“ _Eu sinto sua falta_ ,” Oikawa mumbled in a heavy, foreign accent.  
Hajime could only catch a couple words in the sentence in the limited knowledge of Portugese that Oikawa had taught him, but not enough to piece the whole sentence together.

“Hm?”

“I miss you,” Oikawa translated in a hushed voice. “I wish break would come faster. I wanna visit.”

Hajime quietly picked at the hem of his blanket.  
“Not much longer now. Couple weeks.”

“Not soon enough,” Oikawa complained. “ _Eu quero ver seu rosto_.”

“I don’t know what that means, Oikawa,” Hajime scoffed.

“You don’t have to,” Oikawa said, and Hajime could hear the smug shrug in his tone.

“It’s pointless to call me if you’re speaking in a language I don’t understand, idiot,” Hajime snorted. “Translate it.”

“It means you’re stupid,” Oikawa teased with a huff.

“It does _not_.”

“Well, you don’t know Portugese, so you wouldn’t know.”

“I’m gonna kick your ass when you come visit.”

\---

The day Oikawa was supposed to get off his last flight for his visit, Hajime felt jittery and nervous suddenly for no reason.  
He hadn’t seen Oikawa in person in almost two years, and he suddenly felt nervous to see him again despite calling with Oikawa so often.

Small, stupid fears bubbled up in Hajime’s mind.  
What if Oikawa had changed too much? Oikawa never talked about it, but what if he had a partner that he hadn’t told Hajime about?  
He paced around his apartment all day with similar thoughts swarming his head.

Hajime sent Oikawa a text early in the morning asking if Oikawa wanted Hajime to pick him up from the airport, but Oikawa had yet to reply.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki, as well as a couple of their old teammates from highschool, had suggested they throw a party for Oikawa for his visit, but schedules hadn’t lined up for it to work well.  
So they saved the party for another time and agreed to just let Oikawa do whatever he wanted during his visit for the most part.

As a result, Hajime lingered around his apartment for most of the morning, wondering what time Oikawa’s flight had landed.  
The dumbass would probably be jetlagged to all hell from the trip.

Hajime thought to maybe make food for Oikawa if he decided to stop by Hajime’s place on his first day back, but thought better of it. He’d probably eat at his parents’ anyway.

A knock on Hajime’s door stole his attention from the boring documentary he had been watching.  
It was a documentary about conspiracy theories, something that Hajime wouldn’t have normally watched, had his mind not been running around the thought of Oikawa all day.  
He’d hardly been watching, anyway, but he figured Oikawa would probably be happy to know he watched it either way.

Hajime begrudgingly lifted himself off the couch, glancing down at his phone to check for any texts or calls from his friend, only to find none.  
He’d rolled his eyes slightly at his phone before tossing it onto the kitchen table and going to answer the door.

Whoever was on the other side was knocking rapidly and obnoxiously, and even when Hajime called, “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!”, it didn’t falter at all.  
By the time Hajime had reached his door, he was flinging it open in a mild rage at the knocker, hissing a sharp, “ _What?_ ”

He stopped dead in his tracks, almost accidentally let the door swing shut at his shock, had a foot not shoved between it and the doorframe to stop it.

“Iwa-chan,” was all he said, and it was maybe the best word Hajime had ever heard.

A million thoughts ran through Hajime’s head, but all he could think to do was crash into him, shoving them out into the hallway of the apartment complex by impact.  
He found his arms around Oikawa’s waist and he lifted, spun Oikawa, buried his face in Oikawa’s neck.

The whole time, Oikawa giggled, clinging to Hajime equally as tightly.  
Hajime caught the tears squeezing out of the corners of his eyes, though Hajime couldn’t tell if it was sheer happiness or because he was laughing so hard. Maybe both.

Oikawa’s face was red, and his face scrunched up to compensate for the wide grin he had.  
His hands cupped Hajime’s cheeks, and his head flew back when Hajime spun them, and his laugh filled the hallways of the complex, but Hajime could care less if his neighbors could hear them.

He held Oikawa tightly, grounding himself.  
His best friend was here, with him, physically. He could touch and hold Oikawa. He could-

The realization hit him, and his body acted instinctually before his brain could even finish the thought.  
Oikawa was still caught in a laugh when Hajime firmly pressed their lips together, but it took practically no time for Oikawa’s hands to find their way around Hajime’s body to pull their bodies closer.

There was no space between them, and yet the distance still felt too far.

There were a million things Hajime wanted to talk about with Oikawa, but all his body could do was hold him closer, tighter, longer.

They only parted to breathe, and when Hajime opened his eyes to gaze at Oikawa’s face, he found the latter’s cheeks wet and his eyes glossy.  
He’d sobbed something through his tears that Hajime hadn’t quite caught, so when Hajime asked him to repeat it, Oikawa sniffled, clearing his throat.

“ _Eu te amo_ ,” he said with tear-stained, red cheeks and a grin that made Hajime’s heart soar.

Hajime knew a handful of Portugese words through Oikawa, though he still had trouble with some sentences and matching the words he knew to the foreign language he didn’t.  
That was the first sentence that Hajime knew instantly.

“Me too,” he muttered breathlessly, hands carassessing Oikawa’s face, looking deep into his damp umber eyes.

Oikawa chuckled, though it got cut off by a sniffle.  
“You probably don’t even know what that means, you dummy.”

Hajime brought their faces together, resting his forehead against Oikawa’s, desperate for any and all physical contact they could possibly have.  
“I do, stupid ass.”

“Then prove it.”

So Hajime gave him his sixth, seventh, and eighth kisses.

“Yoo-hoo, Hajime! I’m back!” Tooru called as he entered Hajime’s apartment without knocking.

Hajime had given Tooru a spare key to his apartment months ago, when he’d visited for Christmas break, even though Tooru had such a limited time to visit.  
It was more about the sentiment than the practical use of the key, anyway.

Hajime scrambled from his kitchen to the door as quickly as he could, stumbling over some of his textbooks on the living room floor as he did so.

He welcomed Tooru with a tight hug and a kiss to his cheek.  
“You should have told me when you were coming by, dumbass. You smell good,” he muttered into Tooru’s neck.

Tooru huffed indignantly, kissing Hajime’s forehead in return. “I wanted to surprise you! Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Hajime breathed a scoff. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t be hugging you if I wasn’t.”

Between Oikawa’s first visit back home and his many visits after that, Hajime had lost count of how many times they’d kissed.  
He didn’t think they’d ever officially announced their relationship to anyone other than their parents, but he figured that they probably didn’t really need to by now.

“Your apartment is so small, I worry that you get lonely in here by yourself, even though we video call all the time,” Tooru murmured. “Hmm, maybe you should get a cat.”

Hajime swallowed thickly, but chuckled softly. “I’ll manage. You haven’t been by your parents’ yet, have you?”

“I always come see you first before anyone else,” Tooru purred affectionately, running his hands through Hajime’s hair. “We can stop by there tomorrow.”

Hajime leaned into Tooru’s touch, biting his lip.  
“We can stop by later today. I think they wanted to make you dinner tonight.”

“Oh? That’s rare,” Tooru breathed a laugh. “What’s the occasion, or did they say?”

Hajime sucked in his breath, taking Tooru’s hand in his.  
“Um, they wanted to celebrate,” he said quietly, losing the confidence in his voice.

“Celebrate what?” Tooru asked with a short chuckle, though Hajime could hear the mild anxiousness in it.

Hajime was a million times more anxious, though.  
“God, 13 year old me would be so embarrassed about this,” Hajime whispered, mostly to himself.

“Huh? About-”

Hajime took a deep breath and interrupted, “Tooru, you’re the biggest crybaby I’ve ever known. You’re obnoxious and annoying and I can hardly stand you sometimes. I hate when you talk about your other teammates to me because I get jealous and I know you do it on purpose sometimes. Also you snore like a damn foghorn in your sleep.”

Tooru put on a hurt look and protested, “That’s just mean, Hajime.”

“But,” Hajime could hear his own heartbeat. “You’re also the most stunning and gorgeous and wonderful person I’ve ever known, too. Sometimes it’s hard to look at you, you shine so bright. I know you never believe me when I say that you’re incredible, but I mean every word of it when I say that.”

Tooru let out a breathy, nervous laugh. “What are you-”

“You’re so stupid and I love you so much that it hurts,” Hajime cast his eyes down, face heating up as he moved to kneel.  
He heard Tooru’s sharp gasp, and though he kept his eyes down as he dug into his pocket, he could imagine the teary-eyed look on Tooru’s face.

When he brought his eyes up to meet Tooru’s he found Tooru already sobbing, snot running from his nose.  
He would have laughed, had he not been determined to finish his proposal.  
“And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tooru had wept, falling to his knees in front of Hajime, grasping at Hajime’s shirt, unable to get words out.

Hajime snorted, joking to ease his anxiousness, “If that’s a no, I’ll have to tell your parents to call off the dinner. But I’m not returning the ring. It was stupidly expensive.”

“As if I’d say no,” Tooru retorted stuffily, giving Hajime his hand.

The silver ring slid halfway onto Tooru’s finger, and Hajime clicked his tongue with a slight huff.  
“Too small? Did your hand grow while you were away? Looks like I’ll have to return it after all…”

Tooru laughed airily, taking the ring in the palm of his hand. “I’ll wear it on a necklace. I want it.”

Hajime ran his hands through Tooru’s hair, wiping at Tooru’s tears with the ball of his palm.  
He tilted Tooru’s face up and kissed him, deep and longing.

Their fiftieth kiss, their hundredth kiss, their millionth kiss, Hajime wasn’t sure anymore.  
Who was counting, anyway?

\---

“Well, now I feel lame,” Tooru joked as they laid down in Hajime’s bed. “You got me an engagement ring and all I got you was that cake biscuit from Argentina.”

They’d had the alfajores for dessert when they’d gone to Tooru’s parents’ house for dinner.  
His parents had congratulated them in tears, laughing at Hajime’s blunder with the ring size, and explaining how much planning had gone into the proposal.  
They’d talked about Hajime’s plans to move to Argentina with Tooru after finishing college, and Tooru had sobbed all over again.

“You _are_ lame,” Hajime teased, burying his face in the crook of Tooru’s neck. “They tasted good, anyway.”

Tooru wrapped his arms around Hajime’s waist, resting his chin in Hajime’s hair.  
“I don’t wanna go back without you,” he hummed. “These visits are always so short.”

“You still have a couple more days,” Hajime chided. “You can spend them bragging to everyone.”

“I think I will,” Tooru chuckled. “Hurry up and graduate already, Hajime. I wanna live with you as soon as possible.”

“I should look into jobs ahead of time. And apartments,” Hajime mumbled, already feeling tired just from the thought of all the work.

“I’ll handle looking into apartments,” Tooru offered. “My lease on my current one is almost up, anyway.”  
He exhaled softly, hand running along Hajime’s hips. “I want everything to happen now. I wanna marry you and move in together now.”

“If you can wait almost twenty years to tell me you love me, you can wait a little over one for me to graduate.”

“I do love you. A lot,” Tooru whispered.

Hajime scoffed, closing his eyes. “I know.”

“Say it back, meanie.”

“ _Eu te amo._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> i almost thought about making "Oikawa teaches Iwaizumi Portugese words while they're apart" into a whole other fic, there's just so much potential there  
> for your convenience, that one phrase that oikawa didnt translate meant something like "i want to see your face"
> 
> also i was working on a different fic with my friend while i was working on this but i sped ahead and finished this fic over the course of like, a week? but i was so excited to write it  
> that other fic will come out . soon im a little stuck on it atm whoops
> 
> ive got a million ideas swimming around for fics; quarantine didn't boost my motivation to do art but it sure as hell did boost my fic inspiration  
> i have like 5 ongoing fics i'm working on, so stay tuned for those!


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